A Justice Provider's Tale 01b
Chapter 1 Continuation... Finally meeting up with a tiny small-framed Arilou , you been after for several months. You already spending the bounty in your head that is and you think you can handle the little son of a bitch with one hand tied to your back, not knowing that this little shit is a Psionic user and a good one, telekinetic talent to boot. That he didn’t break your neck with his mind powers after he spotted you was only thanks to a stroke of luck, because a competitor saw him too and attracted his attention by shooting at that green-skinned runner. Next time you hunt someone with psionic talents make sure you know what to do or decide to have someone else take the ‘tract. While I was certain the Andorian didn’t have an HPI over two hundred, the threshold level where psionic abilities might develop in an individual, he still was a four-meter tall humanoid who could run a whole lot faster and was naturally at least twice as strong as a standard, non-enhanced human. I lowered the cargo compartment lift gate and unloaded my Silverhawk-Monoflash . A small open skimmer with powerful Artigrav lifters and a truly insane directional ′all-environment′ turbine. I never wanted to find out just how fast the thing could go, I wasn’t the suicidal maniac kind. The S-M provided me with transportation first and foremost as I had no inclination to do much walking in this scorching heat and the way things looked around here, I didn’t expect taxi flyer service or convenient slide belts. For your information, friend. It also pays to check whatever information you could get about the environment your prey has decided for his hiding spot. Bummer Is, I didn’t always follow my own advice. I didn’t check GalNet or ′Foster’s Fringe World Almanac ′ on information regarding Gullster’s Paradise . I had relied once again on local information if you could call the colorful description of a barkeep at U-56730-II at a Tox-Serv 344 light-years distant local information. My mistake. Sadly after seventeen, hold on ... no nineteen years of doing this I am making them, mistakes I mean. Hey, I never said I was the best in the business or the most successful. To myself, I added a ‘Nope sadly not.’ Then I swung into the seat of the S-M and opened the acceleration control to only five percent, and was basically already where I wanted to go. Arriving ahead of a rolling dust cloud that moments later engulfed everything with a blinding billowing talcum fine powdery substance. Neither the black, just recently washed and decently clean Silverhawk nor my mostly black outfit weren’t black anymore. I was certain I was now perfectly camouflaged to blend into the rest of the dusty yellowish landscape. Well, I better not put that into the narrative, I was thinking to myself while I was glad I was wearing my face mask. The air of this charming world was a little on the thin side in terms of oxygen and way too hot for comfort. Even though a standard NiOx breather like myself could have survived. At least for a short while, there wasn’t a single molecule of H20 in that atmosphere. GWC 5D , yeah right. This was more like a GWC 6D and in my opinion, there was nothing even remotely ′garden′ about this place either. The building, if you could call the tent-like something a building and the red spherical metal thing with its doorway off the ground and accessible via a stack of crates forming a ten-step staircase of sorts, emerged out of the settling dust cloud. Surprisingly, none of the clingy dust stuck to the metallic sphere. But then there needed to be moisture, even a little bit to make it stick, I guessed. The tent was made of heavy white, semi-translucent Dura-plast packing tarps glued or stitched together and draped over something large more or less rectangular. A sign, made out of a long piece of the same plastic material and stretched between two metal poles told me that this was ‘Gullster’s Paradise Space Port Main terminal ’. A sign of similar design identified the about twenty-meter diameter steel ball as ‘Gullster’s Paradise Space Port Administration’. What struck me odd were the fifty or so colored lights that had been placed around the third plastic sign. ‘Gullster’s Saloon and Restaurant’ right beneath the main terminal designation. The ‘terminal’ I guessed was about forty meters long and maybe five or six meters tall. To enter it one had, to step through the weighted curtain that was right underneath the inviting sign. I was fairly sure it wasn’t the lights that enticed me to seek out my business inside. There was the prevailing wind that was blowing in my direction and the reason for my recent dust bath, the constant rustle of plastic tarping but no other sounds that would suggest this place to be occupied. I didn’t hear any voices or music coming from inside. Remember what I said about equipment and other beings being faster, bigger and stronger? The very first thing you need to get is the highest classification of weapons permit you can get and then buy yourself an equalizer. Yep, we humans aren’t very good at anything except making weapons and going to war. No matter who or what you hunt there is bound to be a weapon that will do the trick in equalizing some of the otherwise quite unfair advantages, let’s say a Pertharian has over you unless you are a Pertharian, then, of course, you are more or less the weapon you need. I carry a variety of weapons and at all the time. I know where they are on my body and can handle them. I didn’t want to walk through the curtain door with a drawn weapon, but I brushed over the weapon access selector of my right glove and held my thumb on the auto draw release of my SII TKU Mark 5. I never made short cuts when it came to my arms and kept them in the best working condition possible. As my main sidearm, I carried a TKU. The Thermo Kinetic based weapon systems of SII were with little improvements and minor design changes around since the Y’All invasion almost fifteen hundred years ago. There have been many newer developments in terms of personal weapon systems over this long period, but to this day nothing ever equaled the reliability and sheer killing power of the TKUs. Out of the over four thousand five hundred Union member species. Less than twenty could survive a TKU blast and it was very unlikely that I would ever hunt a Camogi Cluster or tried to go after a Bandrupo. I imagined nothing in terms of standard weapons could harm a Narth and the blast of a TKU would probably only feed a Non-Corp with energy or go right through one. There were a few more I could not think of right now, but none of them were likely to become runners. The rest would need serious shields and battle grade armor suits. The weapon released a bolt of superheated plasma, at near light speed and hit whatever target I aimed at with a few tons of kinetic energy and the temperatures found inside a star. I know a missile weapon is usually the preferred hardware of a Hunter with programmable, intelligent ammunition, and I do have one along as well, but trust me, there aren’t many beings that don’t know about the power of a TKU. Looking down the quarter-inch discharge borehole with an active discharge field takes the fight out of many before there is a need to pull the trigger. And yes I wish I could buy myself a Mark six or even a Mark eight, which is the standard sidearm of the Spatial navy and our Union Army, but civilians and sadly even ex-soldiers have a hard time getting these legally and with the necessary carry permit. Now, I did hear about the legendary TKU 12. Who hasn’t? But if it ever really existed, there was no way in hell anyone would be permitted to carry it, with exception of Admiral Stahl perhaps. Besides I wasn’t hunting Bandrupo. I brushed the plastic curtain aside and stepped in. No wonder it was so quiet, there was no one. The place consisted of a single room, with a compact all in one Frontier bar 5000 on one end. Half a dozen tables of various sizes and simple plastic cubes to sit on. The ground was not even covered with anything and was the same yellowish dirt and rock as outside. The only difference it was mostly dust-free. Right across the entrance flap, a rugged encapsulated all environment GalNet terminal, two privacy cells, and a Tabil Tosser game. Then came a long plank, resting on two barrels serving as a serving counter. The words Union Post Office on a neat pre-lit modern sign above it. There was a green metal box for physical mail, plastic rack with Union Voter forms, Science Corps personal research requests, OOCA information, recruitment information for the Armed Services and a few other forms and pamphlets that made it clear that this desolate and remote place was still a Union world. There were advertisement posters taped or glued to the thin plastic walls: Speedsty the cartoon character spaceship of DeNoir NuGas, one for Yellow Ribbon Ship services, three for different brands of beer and a wanted poster of one of the most famous pirates of them all. Mysterious Black Velvet, active somewhere in Freespace. I was not sure if these images hadn’t been doctored or completely fabricated. No pirate could look that sexy in skin-tight leather. Nice to look at I had to admit though. For a moment I was dreaming about what I would do with the reward of Twenty million credits for her capture. Not that I had any intention to pitch my Angel’s Wings against a full-sized and reportedly well-armed Karthanian ship, with Nul froth casters to boot. The poster did not hold my attention for all that long. I had business here and the beer advertisement, especially considering the dry dust ball made me thirsty for an ice-cold Miller. Since I supposed to advise a potential future hunter, my friend stay away from Tox while on the job. I have one iron rule, not a drop of Tox of anything until the job is done. If I ever would have something like a partner, I’d shoot you dead on the spot for being intoxicated. Nope, friend, you need all your senses and then some to make it in this business. Well standing around didn’t do much and even after waiting for about fifteen more minutes, I was fairly sure no one noticed my landing. Before I headed out, I decided to spend the outrageous price of eight credits for a cold Fizz-Cola and an auto prepared burger from the operational Serv-Matic which represented the ‘restaurant’ of this fancy spaceport terminal. Eight credits were pricey but considered the distance the ingredients had to travel it wasn’t overly so. While I had a Serv-Matic aboard the ‘Angel’s Wings’ it was even a bigger heap of useless tech parts than my Auto-Nav. Not surprisingly so as it came from the same Corporation, just a different Division. However, for the price a good used SII Auto-Chef, I might as easily hire me a real chef for a year or so. Not that there would have been much room for one. I took off the mask and immediately smelled the sharp stench. Only one thing I knew smelled that way, the shit of those four-armed, evil to the core Shiss lizards. Considering that their declared territory officially began less than 100 light-years to the Galactic south from here, the possibility they raided this place was not a slim one. I couldn’t make out the source, but I expected it to be close. One of those extremely dangerous tall, strong and vicious lizards had crapped somewhere and perhaps was still around. Neither Fizz Cola nor a burger was on my mind now. I hastily replaced the face mask and this time I released the Auto Draw. The TKU jumped into the receptor glove worn on my right hand. Into the audio pick up of my mask, I said. “Angel, button-up, weapons on standby. That told my ships AI to raise shields and slave the ships weapons to my remote control. While there was no open war between the Shiss and the Union, relations were anything but friendly. There were raiders that had no open connection to the Shiss government. At least that was the standard excuse of the Shiss for any incident. I had no intentions to get into a pissing match with a cruiser full of angry Shiss who were eager to tear a human apart just for fun. Along with my weapon at the ready, my combat HUD had come on and mirrored its data onto the inside of my visor. Told you, friend. Don’t try to save a few creds on personal gear, you won’t die on a soggy burger that your EN-CuliExpert accidentally combined with the fixings of an apple pie and a cola, after a while you might actually get to like some of the rather unusual combinations, but you will end up as glittering shimmer of dissipating atomic ashes in a situation like that. Shiss weapons are designed with Nul in mind and have no problem roasting you to charred bits. Not that going against an unarmed one is a much safer alternative. The motion sensor and temperature difference visualizer made me aware of a human-sized target right behind the weighted plastic flap of the entryway. I knelt behind one of the tables. Nothing in terms of cover of course, but helping me to resent a smaller target, simultaneously I aimed the weapon as a muscular, fit-looking man stepped in, wearing the maroon colored pants of an Explorer corps uniform. He had- worn but decent looking Terran All Terrain boots on his feet. I wore the same type of boots on my feet. As I said cutting corners on personal gear is asking for trouble you don’t need. There was no better footwear in the Universe. I heard even Kermac loved to wear them. Above the pants waist, he wore only a not exactly clean looking, at one point probably white T-shirt. Broad suspenders held the pants and a wide equipment belt with an assortment of tools, and an ancient Bofors III. Much better known all over as the venerable Bo-Zap Three, a directed Energy weapon with variable beam focus and decent stored energy capacity. The man appeared human and thanks to the very deep tan, the wide-brimmed hat and a mouth and nose covering breath mask, he could have been a member of just about any of the many human subspecies or descendant of an old colony community. Perhaps not all of them. I was certain he wasn’t Stellaris, too dark for a Vrill or Falkenhorster. He was certainly not Thauran, as these blue-skinned bastards didn’t fare well exposed to too much sun and did not tan but more or less just burn. The man also wore a pair of dust goggles. He had stopped moving as he stared at the weapon I held leveled and aimed at him.”You shoot me, mister and you are in a world of trouble.” “Depends what you call trouble. Smelling Shiss caca, smells like trouble to me and you don’t look like you poop lizard crap.” “Nope, but you don’t want to be to close around and smell what I produce either.” He pointed towards the Union post office alcove. “Happens, I am the Postmaster around here. Shooting me, even as distant from Pluribus as we are, will have Postal police on your tail. That GalNet terminal isn’t fake.” He had a point, that was indeed trouble of the most serious kind, but I wasn’t just yet prepared to put the gun away.”Never figured it was, but that still doesn’t explain the smell.” “The pile of crap behind the other side of the tent wall however should. I was about to bury it when some genius decided to create a dust storm. Looking at you, however, I think the word genius might overreaching things.” “You realize I have a TKU drained on you. Insulting me is either insane, crazy or you have nerves of Titanium and guts of Ultronit.” I did, however, lower the gun and slowly replaced it in the holster, keeping my thumb on the Auto draw release, however. “Living here on Gullster’s is sort of insane, to be honest.” He said and took off his dust mask.”And I might have turned nuts without knowing, but as I said I am the designated Post Master of a little shitty office at the edge of nothing and the Shiss. But the Post Master I am and shooting me would be the dumbest thing you did ever, even dumber than raising a dust storm.” “So we have established that I am not the smartest, I can live with that. I still sort of curious why there is Shiss dung behind your, uhm ... space port terminal. But I can live without ever solving that mystery. However, If you know the whereabouts of a tall Andorian, goes by Sodiban Renow and flies around with that customized D60 out there; I’d be very grateful and even send something using your post office.” “There isn’t a war going on between us and the Shiss you know and this place is closer to Shistaa than to Pluribus by magnitudes. Them lizard’s come here to use the XChange selling crap and using the credits they earn to buy non-restricted Union stuff. It’s not against the law or anything.” The man walked behind the bar, took off his hat and tool belt and tied an apron around his waist.”Bar and restaurant now open, stranger.” I sat down at one of the tables. “A Fizz Cola then and that Gullster Special Burger I’ve seen on the menu. So any idea where I could find an Andorian around here?” “As a barkeep and restaurant owner. I don’t like to share such information just with anyone. You could be a bad person on top of being a very dusty one and that poor Andorian is hiding from you for good reason.” “He’s hiding and running for a good reason alright and I am a bad person most of the time.” The man placed a cold plastic can of soda and a plate with a decent looking burger on the counter of his bar. “No one has yet applied for the wait position, so it’s self-service Mister.” I got up walked the few meters to the bar taking the things back to my table. The soda was very welcome as it wasn’t exactly cool inside the tent. The burger was quite good for an auto prepped one. Better than what my screwed up Serv-Matic fabricated for certain. He came to the table held out a portable cred reader and I swiped eight credits and a tip of 5 in it. Without a single word, he went behind the bar untied his apron and retrieved a green jacket and slipped in it. He pointed at a metal disc-shaped disc that was pinned to it above the left breast pocket.”As the duly appointed sheriff of Gullster’s however I am very interested why you after said Andorian and if the reason is legit, I tell you where you can find him.” I activated my bounty hunter license and he studied the projected holo for a second or two. “I could run that license you know, that GalNet terminal is working fine, but I buy it. I also know your friend Sodiban Renow is a runner. Poor guy actually, decent fellow for most of his life. Union Citizen and all that and then he and his brother of all people fall in love with the same woman.” The sheriff that had yet to give me his name sighed. “Crime of passion, that sort of crime will never be eliminated from society, I imagine.” “Probably not, but all he had to do was go to a Court clerk, get a lawyer and all that. Instead of cleaning out his brothers’ credits, disregarding three summons of the Union court and disregarding a bench warrant. Not to mention selling a load of Boron on the XChange for himself, five thousand tons of it.” “He didn’t mention that.” “He was employed by Sunders and Brown Mineral and Ore Dealers Inc. The Boron was destined for a commercial customer of theirs. Sodiban Renow redirected the freighter, sold the stuff for cash credits instead of having it delivered to said customer and used the profits to run. Tried to buy himself a new CITI and all that. He pretty much decided to become a genuine outlaw after that. Doing all kinds of bad things.” The man with the dark tan and the multiple titles and jobs said.”He tried that here as well. There is a CITI machine in the school principal’s office.” “So I gather you are the principal as well and this,” I gestured around me.”is the school?” “No, Silly hunter. There is an actual town here and believe it or not we do have a genuine Union school. It’s a remote one with only an Avatar teacher and seven students at the time, but its a real Union school. Ms. Perkins, who runs the XChange is also the principal.” “Okay, then where is Sodiban Renow?” “In jail. Or that’s what we call the freight container now, as I put him inside since we never needed an actual jail before.” “But you needed a Sheriff?” “Yep.” “Alright, Sheriff. Can I get your prisoner then?” “Yes in principle you can, but I already called this regions Ranger and he might show up in a few weeks or so. What about the bounty?” I sighed.”Ah, now I get it. You want a share!” His eyes widened.”A share? So you mean I would, I mean the Community would get a share. I was afraid we would have to pay the bounty and then somehow claim it from somewhere.” “You aren’t Sheriff for long, right?” “Nope, I am the Post Master. We only needed a Sheriff since Sodiban Renow tried to break in the School’s office and use the Union CITI machine.” “They can’t be used without going online and a duly authorized operator present.” “He didn’t know that, so it seems.” “No, Sheriff. Gullster owes nothing. As a matter of fact, as the elected Sheriff you can confiscate the D20 as it is an FTL capable spacecraft and was operated without license or Union registry. It is a piece of crap but still worth fifty or sixty thou even out here.” He widened his eyes. “Fifty thousand credits?” “Yeah.” “The bar and restaurant are closed. The entire terminal is closed.”You finish your burger if you want to get another one. I am getting you the prisoner, wait right here. That’s an order by the way. Sheriff’s prerogative and all.” “It is no trouble I can pick him up.” “Nope, you are bound to cover the entire colony with more dust. Or start shooting and doing ‘bad people things’.This is a quiet place and we like it that way. Stay here, Sheriff’s order!” He put goggles and hat back on then his dust mask and without much further ado he left. I was slowly chewing. This turned out to be the easiest hunt ever. If it was all true. I couldn’t help it. There was something strange about it all that didn’t add up. But he was the Postmaster and apparently the Sheriff too. Going against his order to wait here could be against some local law. Local laws mean little, especially if they were minor infractions, like that, you say? Then you know little about our shiny union my friend. The spaceport no matter how primitive and ridiculous it appeared was a registered port on a registered Union colony. Meaning the port was Federal ground, you follow me so far? Good! The guy, most likely also the spaceport administrator gave me a direct order to stay. Disregarding it was a federal offense, however minor he could report this to the local regional Union court. Get the idea? I will however not remain forever, and make sure that neither of these relics out there suddenly leave. I checked them with more than just my eyes you see, both crafts are cold. Their power plants and engines are not even in sleep mode. They are off. Takes at least ten minutes to get even a small shuttle-like this up and running. It didn’t even take as long as I expected, the guy came back. He had been gone for maybe twenty minutes at most. Brushing the plastic curtain aside he thumbed over his shoulder. Got your friend outside. Say you get paid for your troubles regardless of his condition, right? Depend on the bounty conditions. Well, he tried to do a number on me and so I shot him. He’s dead. I wondered about that, did that ‘law-enforcement’ officer shoot the guy because he wanted to make sure he could keep and sell the shuttle? Which was in my estimation a very likely reason. “What sort of number did he try to do?” “I guess telling him you were here to pick him up was the wrong thing to do. He didn’t want to go. He’s tall and strong and ... well I am the sheriff and he resisted and fought me, end of the story.” I got up and brushed past him into the open. There on a simple open bed cargo bed floater sat the unnaturally folded body of a tall Andorian. There was a ghastly hole right in Sodiban Renow’s forehead, the light of the sun was shining through and the weapon was, considering the charred holes something similar to my TKU, there was plenty of blood all over the face and the body. I couldn’t think of a reason for those injuries and the blood other than Sodiban had been tortured and perhaps was dead before something punched a hole through his cranium. Well in his case it was dead or alive and the killing was done by the local authorities, no matter how questionable those authorities were. “Well, I said, “Looks like I got my man and you got yourself a Roomy-Sixty.” “What?” “That D60 out there is a Galacton Small Crafts and an old Roomy-Sixty model. You going to give me a copy of the incident where you had to shoot the Andorian?” “Sure. I guess I have to have one for the ranger as well when he comes, right?” “I would imagine so.” The Sheriff, I learned a little later while I had another cola, went by the name Shin Tsuro, because he had returned and handed me an official report with his name on a CITI verified document. He was indeed the postmaster as he had used the Post office GalNet station to verify his and my identity. After I had the Andorian wrapped tight in the same plastic material as the tent building I said to the guy.”Well, I will be on my way now. Out of curiosity what is it you and I mean the colonists do out here for a living?” “We scoop the mineral puddles, fill it in bottles and sell them on the XChange. Takkians love that stuff.” I nodded.”Figures, whenever I thought there is something utterly useless, there is someone in that Union of ours willing to pay for it.” “Yeah. Say you get around a lot. I imagine. Did you hear a rumor about the Nul perhaps making peace with the Union?” I silently apologized to the dead Andorian, as I used some additional memory tape to secure his wrapped body to the Cargo rack of the Silverhawk-Monoflash. The darn guy was just so tall and thus considerably longer than the cargo rack. “Now that would be major news all over the place and I am sure your GalNet terminal works as good as mine.” I shook my head.”And I don’t listen to all them conspiracy and rumor stuff they have above the 5000 channels. It all always turns out to be exactly that, rumors and crap.” “Yeah, you are probably right. So you think there won’t be peace between the Union and the Nul?” “Wouldn’t that be bad news for those green-scaled behind-your-tent poopers? They fight with the Nul for longer than there is a Union, from what I understand.However, I doubt it will ever happen. Them purple bastards don’t even have something like diplomatic relations with us.” I was satisfied with the result of my taping job and added.”Those purple brutes like to pull the Tigers tail and one of these days they pull too hard and the Assembly lets Stahl do the complaining. They are tough, Mr. Tsuro, those Nul and I bet it is not going to be a walk in the park, but when Stahl is done, there won’t be many Nul left to worry about anything.” The Sheriff-Postmaster-Barkeeper agreed with a nod of his own.”Yeah, that Stahl. He is something. But I bet he doesn’t exist. He’s just some sort of propaganda to keep the Nul, the Kermac and of course the Shiss at bay. I don’t even believe that Devastator really exists.” “That’s what they all like to think until he shows up. Well, Mr. Tsuro I am on my way for sure now.” I let him be and went on my way. Pages: Prev | 1 | 2 | Next Chapter 2 » Category:Stories